


Power and Control

by Gaydar



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst and Porn, Blood and Torture, F/M, M/M, Multi, Offensive, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicide Attempt, Torture, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, dark!Jean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-17 22:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1404427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaydar/pseuds/Gaydar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean disappeared on his 18th birthday, just a few months before graduating high school. No one ever thought anything of it. Marco finds out exactly what happened to his ex-best friend six years later, the hard way; Tied up in a dark room with no memory of how he got there. It takes a lot of blood and tears to clear things up, but even then it doesn't make sense to Marco until he has someone else spell it out for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power and Control

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This is very very offensive. You see that tag up there? That says Stockholm syndrome? This is a romance fic, but it's not healthy romance.

' _Where am I?'_

My mind was spinning, and it was so dark I couldn't tell if my eyes were opening or not. Did I hit my head?

_'No wait, last night...'_  I tried to remember, but I couldn't form anything in my head. What's the last thing I could remember doing? I was waiting for the city bus, I remember that much, but nothing else. Everything's just gone. Not like a blur or a drunken mix up, but just gone entirely.  _'What did I do? Did I go drinking and get wasted?'_ There's no way I'd let myself drink so much.  _'What am I even sitting on?'_

_'I'm pretty sure it's a chair, but why can't I move?!'_  I was  _strapped to a chair_? All kinds of scenarios played out in my head, and I wasn't sure which ones were believable or not. How did I get from waiting at the bus stop to being tied up on a chair with a migraine that felt like a stroke?  _'What did I do? Oh god what did I do? Why can't I remember anything?!'_

I started shifting from side to side, trying to get one of my arms free from whatever was holding them down. After what felt like a few minutes, and no progress, I started to feel genuine panic.  _'Just please let this be a nightmare.'_

What was I going to do if this was real and I couldn't get out of here? Would I die here?

I heard a clicking sound, and there was suddenly light in the room. It was so unexpected that I gasped in shock, and I had to squint my eyes so I wouldn't go completely blind. Someone had turned on the light, but who were they? 

When my eyes finally adjusted to the light and I could open them fully, I realized that there wasn't all that much light in the room at all. The light was coming from a small lamp on a desk at the back of the room, and the bulb must have been old or dirty to be emitting such a nasty yellowing color. 

What I was still having a hard time seeing, was who had been leaning on the desk. My head wasn't completely clear yet and my eyes were out of focus, so that didn't help.  _'Whoever they are, if they're holding me for ransom money, I hope they won't be too disappointed to know my family's broke.'_

"I thought you'd  _never_  wake up. Hitch is way too generous with the drugs that she likes to use." Okay, so they were a man. I didn't know who "Hitch" was, but from what's been said, they're probably the reason I can't remember a thing about how I got here.

_'Drugs? Like, date rape drugs?'_  How could someone get me to take date rape drugs? I was too confused to even begin trying to figure that one out.

"Just going to sit there with a dumb look on your face? Fine, I didn't think you'd be happy to see me again anyway." They started walking towards me, and even though his body was blocking most of the light, I could see him better up close.

"Jean? Where did you go? Why did you leave without saying anything?" I never knew what happened to Jean, he just up and vanished one day. His mom reported him missing, but they never found him.

"Do you really have to ask? I'm surprised any of you even noticed I was gone." Jean bent down to meet me at eye level. He looked different, which made sense since the last time I saw him was when we were in school together, but there was something else that I couldn't figure out. 

I blinked and looked around the room some more. Now that I knew that Jean was here, I felt more confused than scared. We must have been in some kind of basement. The walls and floor looked like cement, but there was paint peeling off of the walls and ceiling. It was creepy. Horror movie creepy.

"What's going on?" My voice came out quieter than I was trying to be, and for some reason I felt really intimidated and small. Jean obviously was responsible for having me here, so it wasn't like I could trust him completely.

Jean grabbed my chin and forced me to look him in the eyes, "I forgot how  _cute_  your freckles looked." The way he stressed the word "cute" and the way his face was as emotionless as it had been before made me feel like he wasn't giving me a compliment. 

He let go of my face and backed away from me, which gave me a better look at his whole body. For the most part his choice in clothing wasn't very different than it had been in high school; A solid t-shirt and jacket with solid colored pants, except he was wearing darker clothes now. The brightest thing on him was the blue scarf around his neck, everything else was black or some form of dark gray. Not very surprising considering how upset he was before he disappeared.

"Everyone thought you died, Jean." I had moved on, and so did everyone else, but why leave a few months before graduation without telling anyone why? Sometimes over the past few years I did get a little curious, and I'd wonder for a while if Jean was happy or not.

_'Is he happy now?'_

Jean tilted his head to the side, frowning, "Died?  _Died?_  Why would I be  _dead_?" I wanted to answer his question, but I saw him pull out a knife from his pocket.  _'Is he mad at me still?'_

"Here, let me get you out of those little ropes. Hitch loves to keep people all  _snug_." So, it was this "Hitch" woman who drugged, kidnapped, and tied me to a chair.  _'Well it is comforting to know. I'm glad Jean wouldn't hurt me, even after what happened in high school.'_

Being freed from the ropes felt amazing. You never realize how good it is to move your arms until you're put in a position where you can't use them at all. I was a little shaky on my feet, but I just needed some time to find my balance.

"I understand why you thought I was dead. Because last time I tried that,  _it didn't work._ " Jean's voice lowered into what might as well have been a growl. 

Something hit the side of my face, hard enough to make me stumble, and I accidentally bit the side of my cheek because of it. I leaned against the wall and looked up at Jean, "Did you just,  _punch_  me!?" So he was still mad at me? After all this time? 

"You deserve so much more than just one tap to the face." Jean was  _definitely_  angry. He grabbed my shoulders and forced me to the ground, and then lifted his foot.  _'Why is he doing this to me?!'_  "Jean,  _wait!_ " He didn't, and I felt the crushing weight of his boot to my side almost instantly. 

Catching my breath seemed impossible with the new fear and panic that had taken over me. "J- _Jean, please_..." I couldn't finish my sentence, I had to breathe. Jean didn't seem to care, pulling me up by my shirt with one hand and hitting me across the face with his other. 

"Please?! You're asking me,  _please_? Don't start that shit with  _me_! I begged you,  _all of you_ , and I apologized so many times in so many different ways, and you all told me the same exact thing." Jean let go and kicked me again before I could properly react. My lungs felt like they were going to collapse if he did it again. 

Then he started  _laughing_  at me, "Oh man, Marco, let me tell you, I was so ready to beat you until you were drowning in your own blood, but this feels  _so good_. I didn't know how much I really wanted to do this until now." 

I was afraid before, but now I was downright  _terrified_. "Why? Ju-just stop,  _please stop!_ " 

Jean got on top of me, keeping my arms still with his legs. Him sitting on my chest was only making it harder for me to breathe. There was no way I'd be able to form a sentence without hurting my lungs even more. "What do you mean? Don't tell me you've already forgotten all the fun we had in high school, Marco!" 

_'What did I really do to deserve this?'_  

"You're going to pay for everything you did to me... What you and  _everyone else_  did to me. There are so many people that I've wanted to do this to, like Eren. I would love to see Mikasa struggle and whimper in fear, but something tells me that she'd still be the same stubborn bitch she was in high school. But you're the only one that's here, so you'll have to do for now." Jean ran his fingers through my hair, scraping away at my scalp with his nails as he did so.

Kicking my legs around was useless. All it did was make me more tired and need more air.

Jean leaned down and held my head in place, "I cared about all of you so damn much. You know, I did everything I  _possibly could_  to make sure you were all happy. Instead you all just... Well, you know what you did to me." He gave me a quick kiss on the nose before straightening himself up again, and proceeding to punch my nose in the same spot.

There's only so much pain a person could take, and I wasn't sure how much more I could handle.  _'I'm being blamed for everyone else's mess ups too? This isn't fair!'_  "I didn't do a-anything like the-they did." 

Wrong thing to say.

Jean slapped me again, spitting on my face afterwards, "Perfect little  _angel_ Marco never does  _anything_  wrong, right? Poor baby, getting accused of things he didn't do." He took out the knife again and started to move it around my torso.  _'He's looking for a spot to stab me, isn't he?'_  

I watched in fear, my heart was pounding so much I thought that if I didn't run out of air, I'd die of a heart attack for sure.

Jean  _giggled_  and brought the knife down onto my right shoulder. I screamed, but he covered my mouth immediately, "Shhh, no one likes to hear complaining,  _sweetheart_." His constant behavior change from gentle to cruel was scaring me just as much as the physical abuse I was receiving.

He removed his hand from my mouth, "Did you forget about  _this_?!" He yanked his scarf over his head, throwing it somewhere else in the room, and pointed to his neck.

"This is your fault just as much as it is everyone else's! Don't tell me, you're still convinced that you're innocent? You all  _let me die_ , but then the damn paramedics just  _had_  to be good at their jobs, didn't they?" Of course I hadn't forgotten. The scar on Jean's neck was like a big white smile in comparison to his tanner skin, and it never _stopped_ smiling. It had always freaked me out whenever I saw it. "I-I'm  _sorry_!" 

He dug the knife deeper into my shoulder, the pain making my head spin all over again, "Don't tell me you're sorry! You're not sorry until  _you_  get something out of it; that's what you all taught me. That's the thing, Marco. You're not sorry; you never were, and you  _never_  will be. I hate you so  _fucking_  much, and that's why it's going to be so fun to make you just as miserable as I am." 

I couldn't take it anymore, the migraine, my heaving lungs, the knife in my shoulder, my aching jaw and bleeding mouth, and everything Jean was saying only made it harder to tolerate. I broke down into tears, and disgustingly loud sobbing that made it even more difficult to get air in my lungs. Now I was choking on blood and saliva, unable to see anything from the blur of tears in my eyes.

Jean must have had at least a shred of mercy in his body for not hitting me again, if you could even call that mercy. He slowly caressed my cheek and started to wipe some of the tears from my face, "Awww, don't cry! We haven't even gotten to the fun stuff yet. I'll let you rest though, for now. Sleep well,  _princess_." 

It was the last thing that I heard before losing consciousness.


End file.
